Four Inch Flutter
by SilverKitsune1
Summary: Paris Geller is not a Disney Princess and has no need for a plucky side kick. Features Paris Geller and Tana Schrick.


Title: Four Inch Flutter

Author: Silverkitsune1

Summary: Paris Geller is not a Disney Princess and has no need for a plucky side kick.

Disclaimer: Gilmore Girls does not belong to me.

Rating: PG

Warnings: wing!fic

Thanks go to: sam_can_do_it for the beta. Any other mistakes found are mine.

Author's Notes: I just really like wing!fic.

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Paris Geller was not a Disney Princess. She didn't sing, she didn't dance, she didn't need help from mice, rats, dogs, birds, crickets or any other equally annoying animal companion to help her get ready in the morning and she didn't perform random acts of kindness. Those sorts of things were in existence for people like Rory Gilmore, and why Tana Schrick had decided to come a tap, tap, taping on Paris' chamber door was a mystery.

"The average hummingbird can fly at speeds exceeding 15 miles an hour," Tana chirped.

"That's fascinating, Tana," Pairs muttered.

The other girl was a mess, covered in streaks of dirt, her curls in tangled knots. Paris wondered if she'd paused to roll around in a mud puddle before slipping back into the dorm. She had a slightly dazed look in her eyes, but Paris couldn't remember if that was just par for the course with Tana or if it was a result of her recent transformation….mutation…whatever.

"A hummingbird has a split tongue," Tana continued. "When the bird goes to feed it folds the tongue so that it can fit into the piston of the flower."

Tana was perched on Janet's exercise ball, bouncing slightly, and almost tumbled off when Paris grabbed her chin.

"Stick your tongue out."

Tana did. It was still in one piece.

"Well, thank god for small favors," Paris said, and released Tana's face.

Tana watched her with wide brown eyes. Paris sighed.

"Put your tongue back in your mouth."

Tana did. Paris went back to examining Tana's wings.

Paris had practically memorized the dictionary. She'd read James Joyce's _Ulysses _for fun one weekend, memorized numerous SAT vocabulary sheets by the time she was five and never turned away a complicated poem. She knew words that made even her college professors stare at her with confusion, but the only word she had for describing Tana's wings was 'beautiful.' The simplicity of the choice made Paris feel incredibly disappointed with herself.

"I should be documenting this," Paris sighed.

"The Ruby-Throated Hummingbird is the most commonly spotted bird in the eastern United States," Tana rattled on, her breath catching as Paris ran her hand down the strip of skin that separated two emerald-green stretches of feather. "Males and females can be determined in the spring when the male sports a ruby-red plumaged throat."

The wings were small and thin on Tana's shoulders, and Paris was surprised to discover that the feathers weren't limited to the wings, but also traveled down the length of her neck, dipping into the hallow of her throat where the plumage was such a dark red that it was almost black.

Paris paused.

"The only other way to detect gender is by looking at the sixth primary feather on the wing," Tana continued. "The female's feather will be rounded and untapered, but the male's will be tapered and pointed."

Suspicious, Paris took a step back.

The morning sun was spilling in through the common-room windows. It made the shadows cast by Tana, the exercise ball, and the Rory's furniture stretch to lengths that looked painful in Paris' eyes as they reached for the opposite side of the room.

"Spread 'em," Paris ordered.

The smallest of shudders ran through Tana's back, but when Paris touched the feathers she was as gentle as she one day would be when she held the test tube that would become the cure for ovarian cancer in her gloved hands.

The sixth primary feather wasn't hard to find if you knew where to look, and Paris knew practically everything.

"Paris?" Tana asked in a small voice.

"What?"

"Do you think Chester will love me no matter what?"

Paris rubbed her thumb along the pointed feather's edge. For the first time in her life she prayed for a musical interlude.

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End file.
